


Release One Leaf

by Black_throatedBlue



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 1998), The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: Constance Hardbroom has a difficult relationship with food, Drabble Collection, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2020-11-10 19:28:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20857028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_throatedBlue/pseuds/Black_throatedBlue
Summary: October drabbles for the Worst Witch, variety of characters and pairings.Includes Imogen grounded, Constance invisible, Davina's comfort, Hecate's ritual, Ada truly alone.





	1. Witching Hour (Imogen)

It doesn’t often occur to Imogen - girls are girls and for all their peculiarities it’s hard to see Bat, Cackle, Hardbroom as anything precisely _arcane_ when coaxing out of cupboards, tuning out dress code discussions. Every day Cackle’s is the unbelievable turned humdrum, spartan severity rendering the undeniably occult something that feels, from every angle, mundane.

But - tonight the sky’s velveteen blue with hurrying dusk, and tonight her school sheds themselves of the ground and all familiarity sheds with it, a susurration of witches high above her, swooping like starlings, bats in the dark.

She’s grounded. Alone, envious. (In wonder.)


	2. The Unseen (Constance)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loose episode tag for "Miss Cackle's Birthday Surprise"

In all honesty, Constance does know she can overdo it.

Not in attitude, no, the standards to which she holds her girls are already vastly lowered enough, thank you, but there does on occasion arise in one’s mind the suspicion that edging gingerly between chairs while invisible with only the vaguest sense of the placement of one’s own body to insert oneself in a position of maximum effect for eventual reveal could, perhaps, be termed _excessive_.

The girls jump, their faces comical, and Constance warms with satisfaction.

Order is restored. (The bruises she finds later are entirely besides the point.)


	3. Cupboard Comfort (Davina)

Soporific dark draws her heartbeat, finally, to slow, her thudding chest and the roar of her ears receding until she’s born afresh to hear - her own breath, the muted clock, with every shift hollow wood resounding and the slithering rattle of mesh. (Low Amelia and piercing Constance safely separate and absorbed.)

Tap, tap (sound, sound) - fingers against backboard to hear that hollow the richest, then splutter crackle whoosh, exercise books splay, pens clack against pens and that buzzing xylophone ripple of conductor stick against mesh, and -

Light invades - “What _are _you doing?”

She glares, yanks the door shut, and resumes.


	4. Curl (Constance/Imogen)

It takes so little to send Miss Drill shifting in her seat, feet propped on chairs or knees pulled to chest, something loose and catlike and confident when Constance sits beside disembodied with upright stillness.

That’s the excuse, Constance thinks, for the intrusive thought that recurs, that if bare inches between chair legs weren’t so vast Imogen might press against her in these moments, might curl smooth back and strong limbs into another and make yield, might remove necessity of change and could bend enough for the both of them.

Constance’s eyes close with want but still she cannot sway.


	5. Observance (Hecate)

By tradition, a witch’s hair is loose.

Hecate’s once was no exception, but when time comes to be a witch indeed she’s sat on the edge of her narrow bed (the world shifting about her) plaiting and twisting and rolling, and slamming the mattress as her hair tumbles down, free and light around her.

The last plait she pulls tight like rope, twisting cruelly to feel tighter still. Each pin digs furrows into her scalp, deeper and locking until the last can barely be forced.

She shakes her head and no weight shifts, hard and unyielding what once was soft.


	6. The Inheritance (Ada)

For hundreds of years her family have forged something here and all her life she's shared it - her mother, her sister, now tonight, it's hers alone.

Her bed cannot hold her, the walls of her room constrict, she presses beyond compelled to learn her home (her legacy) anew. The halls are empty, the classrooms quiet, moonlight streams on stone tiles and every door opens before her - another and another - until she wakes in the chill night air, beloved walls all about her.

Her fingers fist, and she murmurs - "Ada, you must not be nervous".

The truth is she's anything but.


	7. Last Try (Algernon/Gwen)

The frog pauses in the reeds, the witch come to the pond finally coalescing in amphibian brain as Gwen (a difficult recognition so far and tall and unmoving) and he small and slimy jumps to her determined, heedless of predators. She watches him approach, half smile so familiar in her kind face, and his heart hopes -

Three jumps short of her feet - “I think you’re a little turned around!” - and he’s back in the mud of the pond bank, chance down.

The witch comes to the pond again, maybe weeks, maybe years later, and he’s captivated. 

He couldn’t say why.


	8. Fresh Air (Imogen)

When Imogen took the job Amelia had warned her castle living could be an adjustment - no electricity, no phone, no glass in the windows nor heating in the walls, of necessity the forest hill climb to the village making a mountain biker of her. For a non-witch of the modern age every candle-lit evening is an exercise in unnecessary, one-handed, warm-toned fire hazard, and it is frustrating.

But - every night she fills her lungs with changing seasons, haunting drafts shudder her bones alive, and she wakes to skin soothed with morning mists and remembers - she always was an outdoor child.


	9. Universal (Ada/Hecate)

Hecate sneezes hard enough her chair skids. 

There's a pause, then a quiet "ow".

Ada lifts her own aching head to find Hecate lilting distinctly off-centre, a spaced look in her eyes. "Oh Hecate - I really think you ought to be in bed."

"Nonsense," - a wet sniff, eyes drifting closed - "I have registrations to finish."

Ada frowns blearily at her own forms, then closes them. Closes Hecate's too, once at her side, and Hecate lilts into her like a pendulum, finally concedes.

She presses a kiss to the damp, sorry forehead, then casts a non-contagion spell, just to be safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No school, not even magic school, is safe from pupil-driven plague. Hecate wakes the next morning and is firmly on the mend; Ada develops bronchitis and coughs for months.


	10. First Fear (Dimity)

It’s blustery, and Dimity knows even as she takes to the air that it’s borderline for flying.

Still, she’s honestly surprised when she hits downdraft - her brain lags behind her body and she’s rolling out of the sudden drop on autopilot before she can remember that years pass. Buffeted sideways, her body weight hits weaker arms and her heart leaps, her waist too stiff to twist the roll, grim fear holding what once was effortless.

She lands, but her fingers shake.

“Right,” she says, her audience none the wiser, “I don’t want to see _any_ of you try that lot.”


	11. Necessary (Hecate)

As much as Hecate appreciates sleep and more than three seconds without mishap (and she _does_), she doesn’t actually enjoy holidays. Weeks drag without purpose and she’s never clicked with most of the staff - but for Ada days could pass without another human soul.

The first day of term hits (a wave that breaks but never quite recedes), the students a descending swarm of growing minds quick to bounce into chaos or disaster. After weeks of empty corridors like sunburn she aches for interaction and regrets it almost immediately - too much, too fast - but something deep inside starts to relax.


	12. Recollection (Algernon/Gwen)

Their memories are neither quite what they were, but Algernon finds frog life returns to him in snatches (not that much can be said about life as a frog, that is, a lot of time spent watching the world (flies) go by), while Gwen dozes more, trusts her own mind less, and though her music is still sublime clings to sheet music for chants she's played by heart all her life.  
  
It's scary (how could it not be?), this sliding gulf between them, but for now -   
  
Gwen turns to him, happily expectant - "Oh Algie - do you remember?"   
  
And he does.


	13. Vital (Constance & Amelia)

“Constance,” starts Amelia, “I think we need to discuss something"

The last exercise book closes with self-pleased finality. “Oh?”

“And I should warn you, I don’t think you’re going to like it”

“If this is about the third years’ exam, then I -”

“No, no, Constance -” (best to be blunt) “I rarely see you eat. It may be none of my business, but I have to ask - is everything quite… tickety-boo in that quarter?”

“_Well_ I - ” eyes very round, voice high, “I may not _indulge_ myself like some but it doesn’t mean - ”

“Constance,” Amelia says again, and it’s enough to begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watch Constance s1&2 with food - she barely ever eats, even when others are, and when she does it's without relish and always (I believe?) due to Amelia's involvement or instigation.


	14. The Other (Ada)

She is the good twin versus the bad, steady headmistress versus the reckless, kind teacher versus unforgiving - everything in opposition to another, always the better.

Bold choices have to be made and Ada stands by them, gambles on gut feeling knowing each decision could be the best and worst she ever makes, a proud, tiny voice saying - better you make this decision than another, better _you_, you know better.

The castle ices, a child loses her magic, teacher after teacher abuses colleagues and students alike; each one unforgiveable.

A new voice she cannot quiet - is better the same as right?


End file.
